


A Cup Shared

by servantofclio



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 21:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9678569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/servantofclio/pseuds/servantofclio
Summary: Thane and Samara share a late night cup.





	

Thane has long relished the nocturnal hours. Not only because darkness provides cover and obscurity, but because they so frequently provide solitude and tranquility. He adjusts his schedule to that of the ship he now dwells on, but the night shift remains the best time to explore the ship.

He pauses, though, watching the asari seated at a table in the mess hall, a steaming cup before her. It is hard to gauge the age of asari, but the fine-ground calm of her expression speaks of vast age by the standards of other species. Her armor is archaic, ritual more than functional. Thane has heard of justicars, and has, in the past, avoided them.

“You are welcome to approach,” she says, though she had shown no signs that she was aware of his presence before speaking.

Still, an invitation from one such as she is not to be treated lightly, so he approaches.

“I had heard of your arrival on Illium,” he remarks.

“You have good sources.” Her eyes flick up from the steam, pale agate gaze that also shows the depth of her years. “You need fear no harm from me here, assassin. For now, my Code is Shepard’s.”

“My gun is also Shepard’s.”

She inclines her head, the barest of movements. “Then we are of one purpose here.”

They are both, he thinks, creatures of rules. “And if your Code were not Shepard’s?”

She actually smiles, warmly and gently. “Then it would depend on whether I caught you, would it not?”

“Let us hope it does not come to that.”

“Would you care for a cup?”

He recognizes the scent, in fact; an asari herbal infusion, said to soothe the mind of regret. In a life as long as hers, there must be a million memories to regret.

“Certainly,” he says, and accepts the cup she pours.


End file.
